Fertility: A Novel (17 page)

What brought her back to her life alone was the memory of Rick’s reaction when she had told him she was pregnant. Panic had radiated from every pore in his body. It wasn’t because he didn’t want her; their last time together had made that clear enough.

So, as wonderful a guy as he was, she had to presume he had some major flaw, a flaw that made him poor “marriage material” as Devorah would say. It was a hidden flaw, like a fault line deep beneath the earth’s surface that only revealed itself during a devastating quake. It was the image of formerly intact homes torn asunder by a long, gaping fissure in the earth that took the edge off the longing Sarah felt whenever she thought of Rick.

Pregnancy suited Sarah. She was one of the fortunate women who never threw up their breakfasts as the small life within them grew and took shape. She tired more easily in the first months of her pregnancy, a fatigue made worse by swearing off coffee. Still, she drew energy from her belief that some stroke of astounding good luck had allowed her to conceive a child. The series of ultrasounds showed the baby developing rapidly. The little fish-like being she had seen during the first ultrasound soon grew arms, legs, fingers and toes. After each visit to the doctor, she was so giddy she wanted to sprint the thirty blocks back to her office.

She allowed her pregnancy an exemption from the pall of low expectations. When it came to the baby, optimism had free rein.

Her route to motherhood, however, would have one minor bump. As a single, unattached woman, she was well aware that people would question who had fathered her child. Since she had released Rick from all responsibility, she decided — quite reasonably, in her mind — to keep his identity to herself. Then she came up with a plan for sharing her life-altering news with those who needed to know.

Since her first-trimester lethargy made it hard to maintain her usual pace at work, she chose to disclose her pregnancy first to Harry. She knew telling him might cause him to lose interest in her as a protégée. That made her nervous, not only because she liked him, but also because she needed him. No associate made partner without having a godfather, and Harry was hers. Of the fifty partners in the law firm’s New York office, eight were women, and three were mothers. Despite the daunting odds, Sarah had no intention of letting motherhood derail her from the partnership track. She hoped Harry would share her resolve.

She waited until her eighth week and then looked for the right moment to tell him her news. The occasion presented itself around five on a Friday afternoon. They were in Harry’s office, just finishing up some work on the case of a hospital accused of turning a blind eye to organ trafficking using donors from third-world countries. At risk was the hospital’s accreditation as a transplant center.

“Well, I’m calling it a week. I hope this weather holds. Toby and I are headed to the beach house.”

“Sounds great, Harry. I hope you get some time on your boat.”

“Me, too. What about you? Any plans for getting out of town?”

“Nah, if I get a chance, maybe I’ll catch up on some sleep.”

“Well remember, Sarah, all work and no play made Jack a dull boy.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Yeah, I know what that means.”

“Harry, if you have a spare minute, I’d like to share a confidence with you, something personal,” she began, her heart racing in her chest.

“Okay, shoot,” he replied as he stopped packing up his briefcase. Sarah rarely gave any indication of having a personal life, so his curiosity was piqued. He sat down and gave her his full attention.

“I’ve become pregnant, Harry.”

He flinched, wondering how the hell that had happened. After cursing silently to himself, he asked diplomatically, “Are congratulations in order?”

“Yes, Harry, I’m very happy. The baby’s due early next winter.”

He came out from behind his desk, took her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “Then I offer you my heartiest congratulations.” Patting her shoulder he added, “That’s going to be one lucky baby to have you as a mother.” Once back in his chair he asked, “How’re you feeling, Sarah? I mean, I remember Toby throwing up her guts when she was pregnant with each of our boys.”

“Oh, I’m good. No morning sickness, just not much of an appetite. The major issue is that I don’t have my usual stamina. I understand that should pass in about a month or so,” she said, touched and relieved by Harry’s response.

“Okay then. It would be a good idea if we got you some help on this alleged organ trafficking case, at least for the next little bit,” he suggested. “We’ve got no margin for error.”

“Some extra help might be nice until the fatigue passes,” Sarah admitted. “I was thinking I’d like to work maybe ten-hour days for the next month or so. I need more sleep than usual. But the doctor assures me this is very temporary. I should be back to normal soon.”

Harry nodded. “Don’t worry. Just do what you have to do. Cut back on your hours if you need to. We’ll reassess in a month or so. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great. Thank you, Harry.”

What he didn’t ask was how Sarah came to be pregnant. He figured if she wanted him to know about the father, she would have told him. Regardless of who the bastard was, Harry’s crack associate was pregnant. It was all the same to him. He would make whatever adjustments were necessary to have things work for her, including running interference with the managing partner if it came to that. He knew she’d feel punky for a while, but Sarah at half speed was quicker than most associates at full throttle.

Harry acquitted himself admirably that day. The memory of his kiss on her cheek made Sarah smile more than once, especially when she juxtaposed that sweet gesture with his well-earned reputation as a cutthroat legal shark.

* * *

Breaking the news to her parents required more thoughtful preparation. Harry’s investment in her was nothing when compared to theirs. Born in European displaced-persons camps to Holocaust survivors, Eva and Joseph had come to this country as children. They had married right out of college and grabbed for every brass ring within reach. Joseph trained for a career in medical research. Eva’s poetry landed her a teaching job at a well-respected liberal arts college. They named their first child Sarah, after a grandmother murdered by the Nazis. They were soon able to purchase a comfortable, suburban home convenient to work. But one dream eluded them — that of having a large, happy family. After Sarah’s birth, despite visiting doctor after doctor, Eva never again became pregnant. Sarah, their first and only child, became the crown jewel of their lives.

As proud as Eva and Joseph were of Sarah’s stellar career success, they worried about the long hours that success demanded. It was not only unhealthy — they could only imagine how hard it was for her to meet eligible men. Every month or so, they took the commuter train to the city to meet Sarah for lunch or — a rare treat — dinner and the theater. Whenever they were with her, they chose their words of pleasant conversation carefully, all the while trying to gather bits of intelligence on her progress toward finding a mate. But for several years now, Sarah had made that difficult. While she was open to talking about work, politics and her friends from college, she refused to engage in a discussion about the men in her life. That fact left her parents feeling chastened and bereft.

It hadn’t always been so. When she was younger she’d introduced several boyfriends to them, starting with the gangly Solomon Grossman in high school. Her college beau, Alex, had become a fixture in their house during semester breaks and summer vacations. In fact, Joseph and Eva had predicted that the Jewish scholar-athlete would likely become their son-in-law, so inseparable were he and Sarah. They had headed off together to Boston after college, enrolled in prestigious graduate programs and shared a funky apartment near campus. Young love and the excitement of a new adventure had infused every phone call between Sarah and her parents. As far as they had been concerned, it would only be a matter of time before she and Alex announced their engagement.

But it was not to be. At Christmas break during her second year of law school, Sarah had come home alone. She said she and Alex had split and that’s all she would say. Eva and Joseph had agreed it best to let her be, expecting she’d eventually talk about what led to the breakup. But years had passed and they remained in the dark about what had come between the two lovers.

* * *

Sarah saw her parents only twice during the first months of her pregnancy. She was exhausted, and whatever energy she had was dedicated to the case of alleged organ trafficking. After work, she’d sleep ten or twelve hours a night. She called her parents every day or two so they wouldn’t worry, telling them she was buried in work. Even when the threat of early miscarriage had passed, she was in no rush to share the news with them, or with anyone else, for that matter, choosing to savor the magic of her pregnancy for as long as possible, uncomplicated by prying questions and people’s judgments.

But by the end of her fourth month, Sarah knew her time was up. She thought it best to share her news with her parents in a public place. Though she felt certain they would love the idea of a grandchild, she doubted they’d be as restrained as Harry had been in asking about the baby’s father. She decided to use a Broadway musical as the excuse for a shared day out. After making sure her parents were free on an upcoming Saturday, she got tickets to a matinee of
South Pacific
. Eva and Joseph were delighted when she called to invite them to the theater and dinner. They agreed to meet in front of the fountains at Lincoln Center.

The latest fashion of baby-doll blouses was fortuitous for a woman not yet ready to announce her pregnancy to the world. For her day out with her parents she decided on black stretch leggings with a black-and-white print blouse, which gathered below the bust in an empire waist. With her black ballet flats, red necklace and bangle bracelets and large red bag, she cut an attractive figure. Her parents were already waiting by the fountains outside the theater when she arrived. Just seeing her approach made them each break into a big smile.

“Hello, hello, you beautiful girl,” Joseph said as he gave her a bear hug and a kiss. Sarah was a female version of her father: It was from him that she had gotten her height, her athleticism, her large dark eyes and her crazy black curls. Her mother, a fair woman of average height — whose idea of exercise was walking the aisles of the grocery store — often joked that she’d been the incubator for the cloning of her husband. Though Joseph was nearly eligible for Social Security, his closely cropped curls were still jet black. He was beaming as he released his daughter from his embrace.

Eva looked on,
kvelling
. The two most important people in her life were standing before her, and in such high spirits. No one affected Joseph as Sarah did. He was proud of her many achievements, but the truth was, it was her very existence that brought him joy.

Trying not to alert her mother to her changing body, Sarah skipped the frontal embrace, opting instead for an arm around her shoulder and a kiss on her cheek. But it was no use. Eva’s quick once-over led her to conclude that her daughter had put on some weight around her middle. But rather than comment on so touchy a subject, she delivered a compliment.

“Where did you get that gorgeous bag? It looks like you could carry half your life in it. I wouldn’t mind a bag like that myself.”

Sarah made a mental note to pick one up in a different color for her mother’s upcoming birthday. “Oh, I don’t even remember where I got it. But you’re right. It holds a lot.” She opened it to reveal a light jacket in case the theater’s A/C was too much, as well as her makeup, hairbrush, phone, keys, small bottle of hand sanitizer and other various and sundry items.

Joseph couldn’t resist. “I don’t know how we men get along without a purse. It’s actually something of a miracle. Perhaps some Ph.D. student in need of a research topic will examine how we exist without all the things you women
schlep
around in your handbags. I can see the title of the dissertation proposal now:
The Adaptation of Male
Homo Sapiens
to the North American Cultural Norm of Purse Deprivation
.”

“Go ahead and poke fun all you want,” Eva said. “Who do you turn to when you need a tissue? Who says, ‘Honey, could you hold my sunglass case for me?’ I ask you that. Men are only too happy to benefit from us
schlepping
these bags around and getting back pain in the process.”

“True. It’s all true. I admit defeat. Sarah, as always, your mother is right,” Joseph conceded as he made a small bow to his wife.

Sarah wondered at the miracle of her parents. How was it possible for a man and a woman not only to fall in love with one another, but to negotiate all the twists and turns of a life spent in tandem? To all appearances, Eva and Joseph still enjoyed being with one another. A miracle indeed, and one that Sarah had no expectation of ever experiencing herself.

“Always right? Mom, just a minute.” Sarah made a show of digging through her bag. “Too bad I don’t have my handheld digital recorder. We could tape Dad’s acknowledgement of your infallibility and you could play it back during your next disagreement. Excellent support for your case, whatever it may be,” Sarah suggested. “Trust me. That would be powerful evidence in any court of law.”

“Sarah,” Joseph explained, putting his hands on his chest, “the key to a happy marriage is a happy wife. I make it my job to keep your mother happy. If all I need to do is agree with her, I have no problem doing it.”

Eva rolled her eyes as Joseph repeated his oft-stated recipe for marital bliss. “Joe, thank you so much for regaling us once again with how you yield to all of my wants and needs.” Then turning to her daughter she asked, “Sarah, how are
you
, darling? We haven’t laid eyes on you for, what, six weeks or more? I know we’re all terribly busy, but we have to make it our business to fit in a little visit with each other. It’s important. Really,” Eva added, not wanting to sound too pushy while still getting her point across.